“Yes, he’s fine. They wouldn’t have let him finish the game if he wasn’t.” Even as I say it, I stillneedto see him to know he really is okay.
Half an hour later, Kasey is still jabbering on about how much he loved the game when the locker room door opens. Something unfamiliar comes over me when I see one of his teammates I’ve only met once hanging on him, his face right up in Bodie’s, and laughing like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Bodie doesn’t see us right away, but when his teammate kisses his head and slaps his ass, I see red.
“You should really keep your hands and mouth to yourself.”
Both of their heads swing our way with surprise in their eyes.
“Bryce, I didn’t know you were here tonight.” I feel a little more at ease when Bodie heads straight for me with long, eager strides. When he reaches me, though, he stops short of a kiss or even a hug. “This is Mickells. He’s a defenseman.”
“I don’t care what he is. He needs to keep his hands and mouth off you.”
Bodie gets in close. “Bryce, not here. Please, let’s go talk.”
“Bodie, you have some rude as fuck friends,” the asshole says as another teammate comes out of the locker room.
“Fuck off. Just stay the fuck aw—”
“Whoa, what’s going on here?” I finally notice it’s his captain who joined us.
“Everything’s good, Davidson. We were just leaving.” Bodie steers me away from his teammates. Kasey lingers behind.
“Bryce, what the fuck was that?” Even his whispering sounds angry. “Kasey, you coming with us?”
“Nah, you guys go ahead. I’ll catch an Uber.”
The tension between us is palpable as we walk out of the Coliseum to my car. I pull my car door open and turn, leaning against the frame. “You’re mad.”
“Yes.”
“He shouldn’t have been touching you like that.”
“Bryce, you know athletes smack each other’s asses.”
“I’ve never seen anyone else do it to you.” I want to stand tall with my argument, but my willpower weakens with every word that leaves my mouth. I may be overreacting but I can’t help it right now—Bodie is mine. “And I know I’ve never seen any of your teammates kiss you.”
“On my head, Bryce!”
“Can I just be jealous? Am I allowed to not want someone else’s lips on you? Why is that wrong?” The petulance that seeps from my tone grates on my own ears.
“Because you should trust me. That’s why,” he says as he turns and walks away.
Chapter Eleven
Bodie
Today’s practice was a shitshow. I thought it was just me still feeling uneasy about Bryce not trusting me, but when Mickells starts to lose the puck at every turn, half the guys on the ice follow his lead.
“What the fuck is wrong with you guys? You play like that tomorrow night, and we aren’t winning the cup this year.” Davidson doesn’t yell often—he’s not the yelling type of captain—but when he does, we listen up. “Get your shit together bymorning, or we’re going to get our asses handed to us.” His gear hits the ground as he grabs his shower kit.
I take the stall next to his and say, “Cap, you want to go get a beer? Seems like we could both use one.”
“Sure, whatever.”
“Lighten up, grumpy. We got this, don’t worry.”
“Fuck off, Foster, and worry about stopping the pucks.”
Yeah, he needs a few beers.
